Incompetency
by Idiosyncratic Enigma
Summary: Casey finally accepts the reality of her parents’ deaths. Updated 2.1.06, final chapter.
1. Incompetency

Summary: Alternate scene during "Serendipity" when Olivia goes to Casey's office. Casey falls apart as her past starts to come back to haunt her.

Pairing: None, just a forming friendship between Olivia and Casey

Publish date: Oct. 17, 2005

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters or the first two lines of dialogue. The rest comes from my overly dramatic head.

Disclaimer part 2: This is my first L&O fiction and I've only been watching reruns since about July. So be nice! J

Olivia was on a mission. She was furious with Casey Novak. The poor little girl couldn't identify the man who attacked her. Casey _knew_ beforehand the girl was too young to pick a man out of a line up. Yet she kept pushing her and pushing her until the child just chose out of fear and frustration. She was so afraid of making mistakes on her first job, that that was all she was doing. Alex would not have handled it like that. Alex was tough, but still had a gentleness about her. She would have been calm, encouraging, and patient with the kid, not harsh and badgering like Casey. As she got off the elevator, she saw Casey sitting on her office couch, books and papers spread out on the table before her, presumably trying to figure out what the hell to do next. She walked into the office without knocking.

"Could you have been any tougher on that little girl? Like she hasn't already been traumatized enough?" she asked.

Casey took a few seconds before she looked up. Olivia was surprised to see tears in her eyes. "Sorry," Casey whispered.

Instead of recanting her comment, her response flipped a switch in Olivia. "Sorry isn't going to cut it, Miss Novak."

"Excuse me?" Casey asked, confused. She closed the book and got to her feet. Olivia shut the door.

"What makes you think you can just waltz in here and do whatever the hell you want? What gives you the right to walk into a crime scene unannounced and start your own search? The assistant district attorney does _not_ do that. That's what we do. Oh, and another thing the ADA doesn't do is badger an eight year old who has been raped! Do you understand what that little girl has gone through? Do you understand how traumatized she is, and how you didn't make her fears any better by forcing her to pick out a guy out of a lineup? She's eight, for gods' sake! She was so afraid she'd get it wrong and she did, and you let her see how upset you were about it. Couldn't you see how terrible she felt, that in her eyes, she made a gigantic mistake and let people down? She kept apologizing to me for getting it wrong. You know, adults have a hard enough time doing that, what made you think a kid could? You can't treat innocent children the way you do a criminal."

Casey couldn't think of how to respond to that. She brought her hand to her mouth and squeezed her lip in an attempt to not cry. She refused to let her colleague see her cry.

"This isn't a game."

"I never said it was a game," Casey interjected.

"You've continually second-guessed us," Olivia continued, acting as though she didn't hear Casey. "You act like you know more than we do, that we haven't covered all the bases. It's our _job_ to do what we do. It isn't yours. Don't make us feel stupid because you don't know what the hell you're doing and try to compensate by pretending to know. It isn't going to cut it."

"I'm completely new to this. I'm just doing what I'm used to doing."

"Right. Show up like you did and try to take over? Is being ADA not good enough for you that you have to pretend to be a detective as well?"

"Detective, I'm stepping into some very big shoes. Don't you think this is intimidating for me? To have to fill the job that Alexandra Cabot had? Right now, it seems impossible. I'm just trying to do my best."

"Yeah well your best really sucks."

Casey paused, afraid her voice would break. "Look, I never wanted this position. I was assigned to it. This isn't something I think I can do."

"You got that right. How you were ever considered competent for this job is beyond me." Right away she knew she crossed the line.

The words cut through Casey like a knife. She was so hurt and surprised that she was at a loss for words. "Olivia…" Casey said, her voice so full pain and disbelief it stopped Olivia in her tracks. Casey could no longer hold back her tears. This last comment was more than she could handle, especially at that moment. She was already feeling so insecure and out of place. She stared at Olivia with tear-filled eyes, trying to meet her gaze, but Olivia looked away, uncomfortable. Casey sat back down on the couch and covered her face with her hands.

After a few seconds, Olivia spoke. "Listen, uh, Casey. I'm still trying to get used to the fact that my best friend is gone. It's really strange to have someone new in her position who acts completely different from her. Who handles cases completely different from her. It's like I was expecting you to be just like her and you're nothing like her."

"Well, Detective, I'm sorry to disappoint you. Again," Casey said, lifting her head from her hands, her cheeks wet with tears. She looked so miserable, and Olivia felt terrible for the things she said. She sat next to her on the couch.

"Casey, I'm really sorry. I was totally out of line. I didn't mean what I said. I'm just really frustrated about – well, about a lot of things and I just needed to explode and you seemed like the right person. This isn't an easy transition for me. I just miss Alex so much. I know that's a shitty excuse, but I really am, truly, sorry."

Casey searched Olivia's face for a few moments before giving her a tiny nod of acceptance. What Olivia had said still hurt, but she knew the detective was being honest with her apology. She took in a deep, shaky breath and tried to regain her composure, but the floodgates had already opened, rendering it impossible.

"Let's start over. I'm Olivia Benson," she said, offering Casey her hand.

"Casey Novak," she replied, shaking Olivia's hand but not meeting her eyes.

"Welcome to SVU."

They were quiet for a few seconds. "I don't think I can do this. I wasn't cut out for it."

"This is a tough job, Casey. It isn't going to be easy. But you're tough –"

"I'm sitting here crying over what happened today. What makes you think I'm tough?" she interrupted. "Besides, you barely know me." Olivia placed a hand on the new ADA's back.

"But I can tell you have it in you. You have a lot of fight in you, and an air of authority that will make you a very successful ADA. Nobody comes into this job thinking they can do it right away, and you are no exception. And obviously the powers that be have faith that you can pull it off. If they had any doubt you couldn't do it, they wouldn't have assigned you to this position."

"You and your partner certainly had doubts."

"You were just doing it so different from what we're used to. In all the years we've worked together, or even in our positions, the ADA has never been such an active participant like you. It's great you're so enthusiastic but it kind of hinders what we're supposed to be doing. It's new and different and we're just set in our ways."

"God, I feel so stupid," she said, wiping her face with her sleeve.

"Why? Because of a few mistakes? I'm sure even Alex made some mistakes on her first case."

"No. Because you were right. I am completely incompetent for this job." Hearing herself say it made it real, and her own words brought forth more tears. She felt so embarrassed, falling apart in front of Olivia. Embarrassed she was appointed for a job she couldn't handle, and letting down everyone involved because of it. Years of failure came back to haunt her and she could hear the voices taunting, _I told you so._ All these thoughts and memories running through her mind only made her feel worse and she couldn't get them out of her head. She leaned over and put her head back in her hands. In an attempt to not be a blubbering baby she tried to keep her sobs quiet and internal, which only made her whole body shake. Olivia's heart went out to her and moved closer and tentatively put an arm around Casey's shoulders.

It had been too long – if ever – since someone had shown Casey kindness when she was upset. Her parents would comfort her with their fists. Her boyfriends would turn the other way and her friends would always have something "come up" whenever she needed to vent. Long ago she had learned it was best to never shed a tear in anyone's presence. Over the years, when she'd get upset, she'd wait until she was alone in her bed and cry with her face squashed in a pillow. Now, a stranger was comforting her, like she had known her forever. She could no longer hold in those years of repression and her sobs were no longer quiet and internal. She leaned in and let Olivia wrap her arms around her.

Olivia was taken aback by Casey's outburst. She knew there had to be other reasons for her tears besides her feeling of incompetency. For now, she just held the sobbing woman in her arms, stroking her hair and trying to brush away the tears. Finally, after several minutes, Casey sat up straight and wiped her eyes. Olivia got the box of Kleenex off the desk and handed it to her.

"I'm sorry," Casey whispered.

"For what?"

"For unloading all of this onto you."

"No, no, don't be sorry. You're having a hard time right now. It isn't an easy adjustment. I'm the one that's supposed to be sorry, remember?"

"I'm just embarrassed, I guess."

"Don't be." Olivia covered Casey's hands with her own. "Listen, I don't know what's going on in your life, or what has happened, and I know we got off on the wrong foot and don't really know each other, but if you ever need someone to talk to, I'm here, okay?"

Again, this sort of offer was a first, but this time she didn't fall apart when it came to her. "Thank you, Olivia. That means a lot."

Olivia gave her hand a small squeeze as she stood, then walked to the door. "You're doing a good job, Casey. I mean it." Then she left, closing the door behind her, leaving Casey alone with her thoughts.

Thoughts? Comments? Should I continue?

Next would be Casey talking about her childhood.


	2. Shattered

Chapter title: Shattered  
Chapter summary: When a tragedy hits close to home, Casey finds solace in Olivia.  
Publish date: Oct. 21, 2005  
Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I don't own anyone.  
Note: Thank you for the reviews! Hope I won't let you down. :)

She got home later than usual – lots of paperwork had to be filled out and she had brilliantly left it to the last minute. It was close to nine and she just wanted to take a hot shower and collapse into bed. The red light on her answering machine was blinking the number eleven. _Eleven messages? Wow, I feel special_. She thought to herself as she settled down at her kitchen table with a pad of paper and pencil, ready to take down the information. The first six were hang-ups. The seventh was from Elliot – something about a surprise birthday dinner for Munch, and the remaining four were hang-ups as well. Casey briefly thought of a possible stalker – she had enough enemies in her line of work to consider it a possibility – but quickly pushed the idea from her mind. Wrong number who was convinced it was the right one, that was all. She wearily made her way to the bathroom and showered and felt herself relax from an exhausting day. It would just start up again tomorrow; such was this never ending cycle called her job. She put on her softest, warmest pajamas and went back into her kitchen to make some hot tea before going to bed. She had just turned on the stove when the phone rang.

"Hello?"

It was the call that everyone dreads. The one that only happens to people on TV and in the movies, one that happens to other people, but never to yourself. The words recited to you like they were being read off a sheet of paper, the "I'm sorry" said without feeling because the voice on the other end was so numb to it from saying it so many times. Another life, another call, another check mark in the box next to one of many names on a laundry list of people to notify. Her throat closed up, her heart constricted; it was as if her whole body was shutting down. She felt her legs start to give out from under her and she managed to grip the kitchen counter before she fell. The phone clattered to the ground and Casey slid down the cabinets to the floor before snatching the phone back up. The doctor continued on without even knowing the effect his words were having on her on the other end of the line. When he was done, no sound came from her throat, no tears fell from her eyes. Finally she was able to speak, and she was surprised to hear how calm she sounded.

"Thank you for calling doctor. I'll start making funeral arrangements tomorrow." She hung up and ran her hands through her hair, trying to let the news sink in. Slowly she stood and put the phone back in its cradle. After a moment's hesitation she carefully turned the picture of her and her parents face down on the table.

She wanted to hit something, punch a hole in the wall, scream until she was hoarse. Instead, she picked the phone back up and hurled it across the room. She heard it fall apart as it hit the floor and instantly she felt stupid for throwing it. She stood helplessly in the middle of her kitchen, looking around for some kind of answer, not knowing what to do. Suddenly, she felt confined. The walls of her apartment were closing in on her, suffocating and squeezing her. She had to get out. She hastily pulled on her tennis shoes, put on her coat, grabbed gloves, hat, and scarf, and shoved her keys and phone into her pocket. When she got outside she was hit with the chill of the night air that went right through her clothes and to the bone, but she didn't care. She just had to get away. She pulled on her gloves and hat and swung her scarf around her neck and began to walk. She walked as fast as she could, half-hoping that if she walked fast enough, she could leave her problems behind in her apartment. She didn't know or care where she was going; she just let her feet go and whenever she felt like turning, she'd turn. She kept her eyes down to the ground, concentrating on her feet and reciting famous cases under her breath, trying to think of anything but the news that had just been handed to her. She didn't realize the people giving her a wide berth as she passed, figuring her for some crazy lady on a mission, muttering incoherently to herself. She didn't realize her lips were already chapped from the cold. She didn't even realize there was a light drizzle until she came to an abrupt stop at a light.

"Hey, lady! Whatsa matter?" a night vendor asked.

Casey felt her cheeks and was surprised to find them wet. "Nothing, I'm fine. Thank you for asking though."

"Here, you look like you could use this," he said, offering her a cup of hot chocolate. Before Casey could refuse, he added, "It's on the house."

Casey took it from him gratefully and continued on her unknown path. After an hour of wandering around New York, Casey found herself in front of a semi-familiar apartment building. She went to the list of names posted by the intercom and didn't have to search for long before she realized she was at Olivia's apartment. She didn't know what to do. She didn't want to bother Olivia at this hour but she certainly didn't want to go back to her empty apartment that would seem so much emptier now. And she didn't want to keep walking around New York at night in February. Noticing there were several lights on in the complex, she took her chances that Olivia was up, or at least awake, and pressed the buzzer.

"Yeah?" Olivia's voice came on over the intercom.

"Olivia?" Casey asked, relieved that Olivia didn't sound tired or irritated.

"Casey?"

"Yeah. Hey listen, I'm sorry to bother you so late," Casey began.

"No problem, I'll buzz you up. Apartment 4D."

The door unlocked and Casey went inside, relishing the warmth after being outside in the biting cold for so long. She went up the stairs and found Olivia's apartment and rang the doorbell. She immediately regretted it – she didn't know what she was doing, or what she was going to say. She didn't know if she could voice what had happened. But before she could turn and leave, Olivia opened the door. Then she saw she had a way out. Olivia was wearing a nice black dress, her hair and make-up done.

"Oh, you're about to go out. Sorry to bother you," Casey said in a rush as she turned to leave.

"Casey, it's after midnight. I just got home about thirty minutes ago. Come on in." She opened the door and Casey came in, standing awkwardly in the doorway and hugging herself. "My god, you look terrible! And you're soaking wet, no wonder you're trembling. Come with me." Olivia took her arm and led her into the bathroom. She handed her a towel and some spare pajamas. "Here. Change into these and hang your clothes in the shower. I'll make some tea to warm you up." She closed the door to the bathroom and quickly changed out of her dress into her own pajamas, then went into the kitchen.

Casey stood in the middle of the bathroom, her toes digging into the soft carpet, the towel wrapped tightly around her. She stared at herself in the mirror, trying to see if she looked different. Finally, she had to tear her eyes away from the penetrating, judging gaze of her reflection. She got dressed in Olivia's blue and green pajama pants and a long sleeved t-shirt from the musical _Rent_. She went into the living room and sat on the couch, and a few seconds later Olivia brought out some tea. She noticed the ADA was still shivering slightly, so she took the blanket off the easy chair and draped it around Casey's shoulders. Casey gratefully pulled it tightly around her and accepted the cup of tea, holding it up to her face, letting the vapor warm her cheeks. As she sipped it, she tried not to notice Olivia's intense stare.

"So, what made you take a midnight stroll tonight in your pajamas?" Olivia asked, keeping the mood light.

"I had to get out of the apartment. I've been inside almost all day…" she trailed off. There was no getting around this conversation. She set her mug down on the coffee table and hugged her knees. She could feel herself starting to lose it, so she rested her head on top of her knees for a few moments. She had already fallen apart in front of the detective once, and she refused to let it happen again.

"Casey?" Olivia asked, concerned. Casey could hear the worry in her voice and the tiny clang when she set her mug on the table. When she lifted her head, Olivia was facing her, giving her her full attention. Casey let go of her knees and sat cross-legged, pulling a pillow into her lap. She opened her mouth to speak, but her throat closed up and she was at a loss for what to say. How do you just spring this type of news onto someone you barely know? Casey longed for her past friendships to be different, maybe if they had been, confiding in someone would be so much easier for her. She had spent most of her life keeping her problems inside that she wasn't sure what to do. She was so used to being the one who provided help that she wasn't sure how to ask for it. She didn't know where to begin. Olivia seemed to know how hard this was for her and moved closer, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Take your time, whenever you're ready. We have all night," she said gently.

Tears escaped down her cheeks, fat tears carrying years of sorrow. She picked at the sleeves of the shirt before finally whispering, "They're gone."

Next chapter will be out soon, I promise!


	3. Devestation

Chapter title: Devastation  
Chapter summary: Casey reveals to Olivia the details of her past and the years of pain and abuse at the hands of her parents.  
Pairing: They're still just friends.  
Publish date: Oct. 26, 2005  
Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I don't own anyone.  
Note: I probably should have mentioned in chapter 2 that this occurs approximately 6 months after the events in chapter 1.

"Sweetheart, who's gone?" Olivia asked gently.

"My parents," Casey said, her voice cracking.

"Oh god, Casey, I'm so sorry. How?"

Casey took a deep breath, forcing herself to remain calm. "The doctor called and said they were coming back from some party. The roads were wet, it was dark, and they had been drinking. They took a turn too fast and the car went off the road, down a hill, and into a tree. My mom was thrown from the car and my dad died on impact." She laughed bitterly. "Who goes out and parties that hard on a Wednesday night, besides college students?" She shook her head. "I'm over-reacting. I shouldn't be this upset."

"What are you talking about? Casey, you just lost both your parents. I'm surprised you're holding it together so well."

"You don't understand," she said softly.

"Help me understand, then."

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"It's silly."

"It isn't silly if it's hurting you this badly," Olivia paused. She brushed the hair out of Casey's face. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. I don't want to force you to relive something when you're already vulnerable."

"It's long."

"I have all night."

Casey looked down at her hands, battling the emotions that were fighting to surface. If she lost it now, she'd never be able to stop. "My parents were a lot of things. Rich, socialites, the pictures of perfection, but they were also abusive and alcoholics. I was their first child and a huge disappointment because I was a girl. My father wanted his first born to be a boy, to carry on the family name and everything that went with it. When I was two my brother was born. Jacob Andrew Novak the Fourth. He was my parents' pride and joy. He could do no wrong. I, on the other hand, could do nothing but. I'd get punished for the littlest things. Being so young, I had no idea why this was happening to me.

"I was eight and Jake had just turned six. He had gotten a "big boy" bike and had spent the whole week learning how to ride it. One day we rode our bikes to the store to get candy. We were riding home when Jake rode through some loose gravel at the corner of our street and since he was still unsteady he fell and hit his head on the curb. I remember screaming and crying and my parents running over to us. My mom grabbed me and threw me out of the way and I nearly got hit by a car, but my parents didn't notice. They rushed him to the hospital – I was lucky I made it in the car, otherwise I would have been left at home. At the hospital, they ran all sorts of tests. I don't remember the specifics because my parents never told me. The doctors found out my brother had a brain tumor and they wouldn't be able to operate. My parents just gave me this look, and I wanted to disappear. They made me stay in the waiting room and when they came to get me, they told me they had almost forgotten about me. I knew then that they blamed me. They never told me directly, but they dropped hints. After awhile I started to believe them. I knew it wasn't my fault, but what else was I supposed to think when I couldn't do anything right?

"After Jake died things got so much worse. I had to be so careful because I didn't know what would set them off when they got drunk. One time I loaded the dishwasher wrong – I mixed up the silverware – and my dad threw me in a closet for an hour. Another time a neighborhood dog got into our yard and dug up my mom's flower bed and she beat me. I was able to convince everyone I got my black eye trying to catch a fly ball while practicing with my dad. I played softball but because I was an outfielder, my parents never came to my games. They didn't think it was a worthy enough position to waste their time to come see me, even though I was put there because I could catch the balls that were hit out there.

"Nothing I did was ever good enough for them. I always did my best in everything but they didn't care unless it was perfect. I'd get the highest grade in my class, or the only A, and they would say to me "why wasn't it a 100?" or "it isn't a perfect score, you must not be working hard enough." Once I got a 97 in my AP Government class and they said I was stupid. My Physics class was the hardest class at my school, and I got an 88 on the final – the highest grade in my class – and they beat me, both of them beat me. They told me how disappointed they were in me. I graduated fifth in my class but they didn't come to my graduation because I wasn't valedictorian. I graduated third in my class from law school and they didn't come because I wasn't first. They didn't care I paid for college and grad school all on my own. They didn't care I got a job right out of school. They thought working in sex crimes was a disgrace, as was working for the state. They were, once again, disappointed that I didn't want to go into private practice," Casey paused as other memories flooded back to her.

"I didn't have any friends. I didn't know who I could trust. I can't tell you how many days I spent at a picnic table, eating lunch alone, watching other people laugh and talk to each other while I had nobody. Most of those times I'd cry without realizing it, and then some jerk would come over and make fun of me for it. The people I thought were my friends wouldn't give me the time of day. When things got really bad at home, I'd try to talk to them, but they'd say they were busy and couldn't talk. Once I even went to a friend's house unannounced, sobbing, and she shut the door in my face. My parents thought there was something wrong with me, on top of being stupid, which only gave more fuel to their punishments. I started cutting myself to feel something other than the pain they were putting me through. They'd hit me if I cried, and cutting for me was my way of crying. When I cut myself, everything just seemed to go away, at least for a little bit. It was comforting. Things got so bad I tried to kill myself at school. Someone found me in the bathroom and I was hospitalized for a week, and my parents only came to see me twice." Casey stopped, unsure she was able to continue. Olivia rubbed her back in encouragement. "I can't."

"You're doing fine," Olivia said gently.

"Okay. But please don't touch me right now."

Olivia obediently took her hands away and then a thought occurred to her. "Casey, your dad didn't molest you, did he?" she asked worriedly. The last thing this poor woman needed was to carry around rape on top of everything else.

"No." Casey's eyes filled with tears she could no longer hold back. "He – he'd watch me shower and get dressed sometimes. He and my mom, they'd make me strip down in the middle of our living room. He'd go first and touch me, inspect my body with these…these _nasty_ eyes. Sometimes he'd just stand back and look me up and down, like I was a vile person, and his lip would curl as if I was the most disgusting thing he'd ever seen. Then my mom would come up to me and she'd take out a permanent marker and circle all the places on my body I needed to work on. Sometimes, depending on her mood, she'd color them in. It was so humiliating, standing there so exposed and vulnerable. I was so afraid my father would rape me, but he never did. If I cried, they'd hit me or burn my chest or stomach with their cigarette butts," Casey finished. She looked over at Olivia for the first time since she started and saw concern etched all over her friend's face. When she noticed the tears in Olivia's eyes, she started to lose it completely.

"I tried, Olivia," she said, her façade crumbling as the tears slid faster down her cheeks. "I tried so hard to make them love me."

Olivia ignored Casey's request not to be touched and wrapped her arms around the ADA, pulling her as close as possible, cradling her head in the crook of her arm. Olivia held her tightly and kissed the top of her head. She wished there was something she could do to alleviate Casey's pain. No words were adequate enough; nothing she said would make the past go away or make it easier to accept. Instead, she provided what she could: a comforting embrace and nonjudgmental silence. Tears rolled down her own cheeks as she imagined a scared, sixteen year old Casey standing naked in the middle of a room, being scrutinized by her father and marked up by her mother, the two people in her life that should be giving her support, not taking away her dignity.

Casey clung to Olivia, sobs taking control of her body, crying so hard she thought her head would split. After several minutes she was so exhausted she couldn't hold herself up any longer, and she was far from getting everything out of her system. Olivia must have sensed it and pulled a pillow into her lap and Casey collapsed onto it. Olivia moved her hair off her neck and face and smoothed it back off her forehead. She gently rubbed Casey's face and arm until her sobs subsided.

Her whole body felt like lead and her head was starting to hurt from crying so much. Olivia was still stroking her face, her hands cool and comforting against her hot skin. She gave herself a few minutes to catch her breath then sat up, popped her neck, and avoided the detective's gaze. Olivia reached over and held the side of Casey's face and turned her head to meet her eyes.

"Casey, I know this probably won't mean much coming from me. But I think you are beautiful and incredibly smart. You are a strong woman. You have a good head on your shoulders and are passionate about what you do and care about those around you. And I'm so, so sorry your parents never knew or saw it. I'm sorry you had to suffer through those things. God, Casey, I wish I knew you earlier in life, perhaps I could have been a shoulder to help bear your burden. I'm sorry your parents died without knowing who you truly were," she said, her voice catching in her throat. She wiped a tear off Casey's cheek and kissed her forehead before pulling her into a secure embrace.

Casey rested her head on Olivia's shoulder. "It means a lot," she whispered. She was quiet for a few moments. "I just wish I knew if they loved me."

Olivia didn't know how to respond. She didn't want to admit it, but it certainly sounded like her parents didn't love her. But they were her _parents_; they _had_ to love her, at least a little. "They were your parents. Even though they did those horrible things to you, they had to love you."

"If they loved me, they wouldn't have treated me the way they did."

"I'm sorry Casey. I don't have any answers for you."

"It's okay. At least you tried." They sat in silence for a minute before Casey sat up and attempted to stand, but she was still shaky from the emotional strain on her body.

"Where are you going?" Olivia asked.

"Home."

"I don't think so."

"Olivia, thank you so much for listening to me. But I really should –"

"Casey, stay here tonight. It's late, and cold and rainy. And I can see it in your eyes you don't really want to go home. You can sleep on the couch and have some privacy, but if you need a friend I'm just in the next room."

Casey sat back down on the couch, nodding in acceptance. She was too exhausted to argue, and Olivia was right – she didn't want to go home.

"Just get comfortable, I'll go get some blankets. Do you sleep with socks on?"

Casey just shook her head. She lay down on the couch, clutching a chenille pillow to her face. Tears welled in her eyes as she reflected back on what she revealed to Olivia, the first person to ever know about her past. Her tears dripped from one eye over the ridge of her nose and into the other. Olivia came back with an armload of blankets and covered her up with them. When she brushed the hair off Casey's face she noticed the fresh tears, and sat on the floor beside the couch, once again resting her hand on the side of the ADA's face. She couldn't think of anything to say and she wished she could do something for her friend.

Casey took Olivia's hand off her face and held it to her chest. "Olivia, I –" she paused, trying to think of how she could voice her gratitude. "I couldn't have made it through tonight without you. Thank you." The last two words spoke volumes. Olivia squeezed her hand then withdrew it from her grip.

"Get some sleep. I'll see you in the morning."

Casey was asleep before Olivia turned out the light. Olivia watched the sleeping ADA for a couple of minutes before heading back to her room. She knew the road to recovery was going to be long and hard, but she was going to stand by Casey's side the whole way, offering her what was quite possible the first true friendship she ever had. As she climbed into bed she said a prayer for Casey to make it through this tragedy.

Please let me know what you think! I'll try to get the next chapter up ASAP. Would anyone be interested in a different story about Casey's past?


	4. Struggle

Chapter title: Struggle  
Chapter summary: Casey identifies her parents' bodies and receives a touching offer from the squad.  
Pairing: They're still just friends.  
Publish date: Nov. 10, 2005  
Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I don't own anyone.

Note: So sorry for the delay. I had a really difficult time writing this, and I'm still not happy with it. I must have rewritten it about 85 million times and I think this is the best one. So if you don't like it, just remember there were 84,999,999 versions worse than this. ;)

SVU Lover4ever – wow, what a compliment! Thank you so much!

Olivia was awakened at 5:30am, merely three hours after she went to bed. She cursed under her breath and turned off the alarm. Still half-asleep, she felt around her bedside table for her cell phone and on auto-pilot, dialed Cragen's office. She knew he wouldn't be there yet, but she needed to call him before she forgot and fell back asleep. "Don, its Liv. Casey showed up last night and, well, her parents died in a car accident. I'm going to take the day off with her and just make sure she's okay. If this is a problem give me a call." Then she searched through her phone list to call the DA's office. "Hi, this is Detective Olivia Benson calling on behalf of ADA Casey Novak. Her parents passed away and she's going to take today off. If you need to get a hold of her, try her cell phone, or you can call me on mine." Olivia left her number before hanging up, turned her phone off, and nestled back under the covers. She managed another three hours of sleep before getting up. Casey was still asleep and Olivia thought it best not to disturb her. She decided to make breakfast, a meal she hadn't made herself since at least high school. She never had time for anything besides a cereal bar or a donut in the mornings. Even though she never made breakfast, she (thankfully) had enough things in her kitchen to make pancakes. She followed the directions on the box meticulously and once the batter was made she went into the living room to wake Casey.

"Casey, wake up," she said, shaking the ADA's shoulder lightly. Casey fought against sleep for a few moments before her eyes fluttered open. Olivia could tell she was a little disoriented, but quickly got her bearings. "Hey."

"Hey." She sat up and brought her knees to her chest, making room for Olivia to sit down.

"How are you doing?"

"I'm fine."

"Really."

"I've been better."

"I'm sorry I didn't wake you up. You fell asleep so fast last night I thought you should just take it easy."

"It's 9:30. I need to go to work. They're expecting me to be there." Casey started to get up but Olivia gently pushed her back down.

"I called in for you today. I left a message saying why you wouldn't be going in."

"That's not your decision to make, Olivia," Casey said, anger playing on the edge of her voice.

"Hey, no need to get angry."

Casey sighed. "I'm sorry, I just –"

"Casey, you don't have to explain. Besides, I think they'll understand."

"I just – I don't want to sit around moping all day. I'd feel better if I had something to do."

"Well, I talked to Warner this morning and she's going to call when she's done so you can ID your parents." Olivia knew this wasn't the type of thing Casey was talking about but it had to get done.

"…yeah."

"And you have a funeral to plan, and I'm sure you have to meet with a lawyer to discuss the will."

"Ha, like they'd leave me anything," she said bitterly. "And I'm sure I'd screw up the funeral. You know, keep them disappointed in me even in the afterlife."

"Casey, stop it."

"It's true!" she said fiercely. She folded her arms in front of her defiantly, but looked out the window so Olivia wouldn't see the tears in her eyes. Outside the skies were gray and a light snow was falling. The gloomy day matched Casey's mood perfectly and she forced down the wave of misery welling in her heart. All she wanted to do was cry and cry, but she knew that wasn't practical and wouldn't change anything, so she blinked back her tears.

Olivia put her hand on her friend's knee. "Casey, take as much time as you need to get through this. Nobody is going to hold it against you if you take some time off." After a few seconds Casey nodded, still avoiding her gaze."Come to the kitchen. I made pancakes. Or tried to. I haven't made breakfast in years so they may not taste too good."

Casey followed Olivia into the kitchen, wrapped up in the blankets. "Good lord, Olivia, your apartment is freezing!"

"I know, I'm sorry. I like to be a little cold."

"But it's _snowing_ outside."

"I'll turn up the heat. Here you go," she said, sliding a few odd-looking flat things onto the plate. "Eat up."

Casey tried to hide a smile. "Um, Olivia, are you sure these are pancakes?"

"Yes!"

"Okay…" she took a bite and quickly washed it down with a glass of milk.

"Come on, they can't be that bad, can they?" Olivia tried the pancake herself and gracefully spit it into the kitchen sink. "Yes, they can. I'm sorry, Casey. Those were terrible. I don't know what I did wrong." She looked at the instructions and smacked her head. "Oil would probably have been a good thing to add, right?"

Casey laughed. "It's okay; it's the thought that counts. I'm not very hungry anyway."

"Well, I have some day- or two-old donuts and some cereal bars if you want anything."

"Thanks, I'm fine for now. Um, Liv? Could we go to my apartment so I could shower and change?"

"Of course, just let me take one myself."

Thirty minutes later they were making their way up to the apartment. Casey hesitated putting the key in the lock. She wasn't sure why she didn't want to enter her apartment. It wasn't like her parents had ever been in it before. She took a deep breath and went inside. The sensations she felt the night before came rushing back to her and she stumbled back, tripping over Olivia and nearly falling. Olivia and her reflexes prevented that from happening.

"You okay?" Olivia asked, concerned.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I just want to get out of here." Casey went to her room to get her clothes then headed for the bathroom.

Olivia walked around the living room and looked at pictures, noticing there were only a few displayed. She looked at the picture that was face down on the end table. It was before Jake died, probably close to the accident. Everyone looked happy. Casey and her brother both had that deep red hair and green eyes and they definitely took after their mother. She wondered what happened that caused them to treat Casey the way they did. They certainly looked like your typical, all-American family in that picture. She shook her head and set the picture back down, upright.

Casey had reached the point where she felt numb to everything. She just wanted it to be a month from now so she wouldn't feel this raw, internal pain. She hated feeling so vulnerable. She let the water run over her but she barely felt it. She couldn't even bring herself to cry. She got dressed and then examined her face in the mirror, noting for the first time the black bags under her eyes. "I look like shit," she muttered to herself. As she stared at her reflection, she noticed she was looking more and more like her mother, and she hated that. She hated that she had once been a part of somebody who had severely mistreated her, who clearly did not love her. She had thought her parents' passing would bring her relief, but instead it brought on a wave of insecurity and abandonment. Casey closed her eyes clutched the sink, and when she opened them again she could see more of her mother in the reflection than herself. Without thinking, she picked up the candle she kept on her toilet and hurled it at the mirror, the cracking sound oddly satisfying.

Olivia knocked on the door, snapping Casey out of her reverie. "Everything okay in here?"

"Yeah. I kind of broke my mirror."

"I can see that. Any reason why?"

"I saw too much of my mom in my reflection. Stupid, I know, but I kind of feel better now." Casey put the intact candle back on the toilet. "Olivia? I don't mean to impose, and you can say no and I'll completely understand. But could I stay with you for a couple of days? I just don't want to stay here, and I really don't want to be alone."

"Of course. Stay as long as you need. Get your things together; Warner called while you were in the shower and she's ready for you."

Casey froze. She had seen people identify the bodies of their loved ones but never thought she'd have to do it herself. She moved in a daze, stuffing clothes into a duffel bag. Finally, she was ready. Well, ready to leave the apartment. She wasn't sure she was ready to identify her parents.

Elliot was waiting outside the viewing room door, leaning against the wall. He straightened when he saw the two women approach. Casey was confused yet touched that he was there and was surprised when he pulled her into a hug. She barely knew Elliot – he was just her co-worker. Until today. Today he stepped over the line to become a friend. His embrace was so strong and reassuring she didn't ever want to let go.

"Why are you here?" she asked. It was an honest question, not an accusation.

He simply answered "why wouldn't I be?" and held open the door. Casey realized that during the past few months she hadn't necessarily given her co-workers a fair chance. She had been so busy trying to fit in and make a name for herself, she had somehow missed the signs that these people cared about her and considered her their friend.

Casey walked up to the window. The blinds were drawn on the other side. She could see a soft blue glow emanating through the cracks in the slats. She wrapped her arms around herself, squeezing the inside of her arms in order to stay calm. She nodded at Olivia, who knocked on the glass and stepped back, next to her partner. The blinds were pulled up and there were two gurneys in front of the window, the outlines of bodies just visible under the covering cloth. Suddenly, Casey couldn't do it. She didn't want to see the waxy faces of her parents when the cloth was lifted. She didn't want to know it was them. Moreover, she didn't want them to be dead. Even though she had these terrible memories constantly floating around in her head, she loved her parents. She wanted them back.

She felt herself starting to hyperventilate and applied more pressure to her arm. When that didn't work she used her fingernails and felt an odd sense of comfort when she felt blood. Warner stepped back from the window and stood behind the first body, gently lifting the cloth and exposing the face. Her father. Casey choked back the sob that was bubbling in her throat and covered her mouth with one hand. Warner covered the face back up and moved to the second body. Her mother. A tiny sob escaped as her legs turned to jelly. Elliot was there in a heartbeat, catching her at the waist before she fell and securing her into a warm embrace. She felt his hand on the back of her head, holding it against his shoulder. She felt numb, and even though she wasn't crying, he rocked her gently. After a minute or two, he pushed her back, holding onto her arms.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"Is there anything you need? Help with the funeral?"

"Oh god. The funeral," Casey sighed, not wanting to face the daunting task ahead of her. She didn't think she had the strength to do it. Right now she was in her own zone; a state of shock. Things weren't registering and everything seemed to be floating by her. She barely felt Elliot's encouraging squeeze or hear him tell Olivia to meet him in the squad room in an hour.

As requested, Olivia and Casey arrived in the squad room an hour later. Casey hadn't felt this awkward in there since her first week. She felt like she was in the spotlight, that she had "my parents abused me and now they're dead" stamped on her forehead, the way people stared at her as she walked by. She quickened her pace and went through the door Cragen held open and into the questioning room. Her gang, save Munch, was in there, leaning against the walls. Nobody was sitting in the chairs so she sat on the table. A few seconds later Munch came in, and Cragen closed the door and shut the blinds. She started to feel uncomfortable, like she was some science experiment being scrutinized. She waited expectantly for someone to speak. Right now all she wanted to do was go back to Olivia's, curl up on her couch with a bottle of vodka, and wallow. She wasn't up for a chit-chat with her co-workers.

Cragen didn't waste any time. "Casey, we know your parents' death has come as a shock and it was completely unexpected. And we know you can't possibly take on planning the funeral by yourself. That's why we're going to do it for you. Just let us know the church, the burial site, and anything specific like music or Bible verses or whatnot you want included, and leave the rest to us."

"Wha-what?" Casey asked in disbelief.

"You've done so much for us, worked so hard, the least we can do is plan the funeral."

"But, you've worked hard for me too. I don't deserve this, I –"

Munch sat down next to her on the table and looked at her over his glasses. "Don't argue Casey. You'll lose." He nudged her gently with his elbow. "We care about you and want to do something for you during this time."

Casey's eyes filled with tears of gratitude. "Thanks you guys. This means so much to me. I don't know what to say."

"You don't need to say anything." Munch patted her leg, hopped off the table, and left, followed closely by Cragen and Fin, who gently punched her shoulder, his own version of a comforting touch. After the door closed Elliot took Munch's spot on the table and Olivia stood next to him, her arm casually resting on his shoulder.

"I hope you aren't mad," Olivia began.

"Mad? I'm more grateful than you can possibly imagine. I was terrified about planning it. You guys – thank you. I can't think of anything else to say besides thank you." She paused. "I'll get you guys the money. Or something. I don't know how it all works. I know my parents had some sort of fund set up specifically for their funeral. I'm assuming I'll find out about it when I meet with the lawyer about the will," she said, looking at her watch. "Which is in an hour. I'm going to head over there."

"Do you want any company?" Olivia asked.

"No, I'll be fine. But thank you."

"I can drive you over there if you'd like." Elliot offered.

"No. I need to just walk around outside. Olivia, will you be at your apartment later?"

"Call my cell when you're done. I'll meet you for dinner then we can go back to my place."

Casey nodded, and put on her coat. On impulse, she reached for her briefcase. She withdrew her hand and gave an embarrassed laugh. It was incredibly strange leaving the squad room without it.

The detectives watched her leave. "She's holding herself together pretty well," Elliot noted.

"I'm a little worried about her, El. She told me all these things last night, these terrible things her parents did and said to her. And she said that she used to be self-destructive. I'm afraid she might revert back to that."

"I don't know, Liv. She seems to be coping fine right now."

"Elliot, surely you see past that. That's just it. She's not coping. Sure, she broke down last night but it wasn't about her parents dying. It was about what they did to her. I'm just worried about her."

"Well, she's staying with you for a few days, right? Just keep an eye on her. Casey is a strong woman and she isn't irrational; she isn't going to harm herself because her parents died."

"I hope you're right."

A few hours later Olivia met up with Casey, who looked rather shaken after her meeting with the lawyer.

"How'd it go?"

"Okay, I guess. I got half of everything. The rest went to brain cancer research. At some point I'm going to have to go sort through all their things. I really don't want to do that." Casey sighed. "This is all so surreal. I feel like I'm in a dream and watching everything that's going on and I keep expecting to wake up. There's so much to do, I'm feeling a bit overwhelmed."

"That's why we're stepping in to help."

"I know, and I thank you in all the languages in the world."

"So where do you want to eat tonight?"

"Honestly, Olivia, I'm not in the mood to go out and eat. Let's just get a sandwich or Chinese or something."

Thirty minutes later they were back in Olivia's apartment. Casey sat on the couch in her pajamas, swishing the wine around in her glass, and staring fixedly at a spot on the coffee table.

"Careful, my table might grow fangs and bite you," Olivia said, joining her friend on the couch. Casey snapped out of her reverie and took her plate from Olivia.

"Oh you witty one, you," Casey mumbled through her sandwich. They ate in silence. "I can't believe it's barely been a day. You know, two days ago, they were alive. I wish I could go back and change it somehow. But I know no matter how hard I wish, no matter how much I think about it, there's nothing I can do."

"Nothing is going to come out of regret."

"I know. I shouldn't let it bother me, but I can't help it." Casey sighed. "So, the funeral…"

"Elliot got the church for three on Sunday, with a reception there before the burial. He said to call the church about anything specific you want included in the service. Cragen is dealing with the catering for the reception. Fin found a beautiful flower arrangement and Munch was looking at caskets as I left."

"I want a really beautiful song played, but I'm afraid anything I pick out will be dumb. Or that they won't like it. I don't know what songs work in a funeral. If you have any ideas, surprise me. If not, I'll just tell the church to do what they want."

"Actually, I do have a song. They played it at my friend's funeral a few years ago. I'll call Elliot and he can notify the church." Olivia studied Casey for a few moments before going into the kitchen to call Elliot.


	5. Avoidance

Chapter title: Avoidance  
Chapter summary: The day before the funeral, Casey tries to escape her feelings and understand conflicting emotions.  
Publish date: Nov. 17, 2005  
Disclaimer: I _still _don't own anyone. Damn it.

Rosebud1234svu – Thank you for the info, but I do know that Olivia was abused. I just haven't brought it up yet.

Everyone else – sorry, I didn't intend for the song to be such a surprise/mystery/whatever you want to call it. And no, it wasn't Alex's song – I didn't even think of that until someone mentioned it. But good idea!

For most of Saturday, Casey slept. At least when she was asleep, she could escape reality. But no matter how long she slept, she'd wake up with that tight feeling in her heart and a strong urge to cry. She refused to cry. Crying accomplished nothing and it only left her feeling stupid and childish. But it was getting harder and harder not to. So she'd hide from her pain and go back to sleep. She wanted to avoid all types of conversation so she turned off her cell phone and whenever Olivia came into the room she'd pretend to be asleep, if she wasn't already. She just wanted to curl into herself and fall asleep forever. If she didn't have to face the world ever again, that would be perfectly fine by her.

Olivia had been called in to work around noon and got home around 6. Casey didn't leave the couch the entire day with the exception to use the bathroom. She even tried to avoid doing that. Any movement beyond rolling over or stretching seemed too difficult, too much of a strain.

Olivia hung up her coat then sat down on the couch by Casey's waist and stroked her hair. "Casey, sweetie, wake up."

Casey kept her eyes closed and didn't move, hoping Olivia would leave her alone. No such luck. So she opened her eyes and stared straight ahead.

"I was going to make something to eat. I thought you might want to join me and talk."

_Talk about what?_ Casey thought. _My parents died, they hated me, what else is there to talk about?_ She just shook her head and tried to roll over, but it was difficult with Olivia sitting next to her.

Olivia studied her for a minute before setting the newspaper on the coffee table. "The obituary was in the paper today. I'll be in the kitchen." She didn't want to push Casey, but she was getting worried. She wanted to give her friend some space, but she was afraid that by doing so, Casey was slipping into depression.

The smell of food made Casey realize how hungry she was and she dragged herself off the couch and into the kitchen. She was afraid if she said anything she'd lose it, and she had to stay strong. Olivia wouldn't understand – hell, even she didn't understand why she was building a wall around herself. Part of her didn't want to admit how much her parents meant to her. Another part didn't want Olivia to see how vulnerable she was. Perhaps it was because that holding everything back was the only source of comfort she had as she was growing up. Her whole life she had gotten into the habit of pushing away her feelings, assuring herself she'd deal with them later and yet never did. As long as she kept it in, nobody would know how much she was hurting on the inside. She had become an expert at hiding her emotions. This time her talents were failing her and she wasn't sure how much longer she could remain stoic. So instead of falling apart in the middle of Olivia's kitchen, Casey turned around and got on the couch, faced the back, and forced herself to fall asleep so she could escape again to the safety of slumber.

Thirty minutes later Olivia had dinner ready: her own "version" of fettuccini alfredo and garlic bread. She carried the plates into the living room and sat on the arm of the couch. Casey was awake but she tried to ignore Olivia's presence. She wasn't in the mood to talk, or eat for that matter. She just wanted to sleep. But Olivia wouldn't go away. She sighed and rolled onto her back. "What."

"You need to eat. When was the last time you ate?"

"Last night. And I'm not hungry."

"I heard your stomach growling earlier."

Frustrated, Casey sat up, grabbed a plate, and started to eat. "Fine. You want me to eat? I'll eat."

Olivia slid onto the couch in the spot vacated by Casey's head. "There are other ways to deal with this."

"Like what? Nothing I do is going to change anything."

"Casey, I know you're hurting. I'm not trying to diminish or take away from that. I just wish you'd let yourself feel those things."

"Why? So you can play protector?"

"Of course not –"

"I'm not one of your victims, Olivia," she continued, walking over Olivia's comment.

"I didn't say you were. I'm here for you, you know that. But it hurts me to see how much pain you're in. I know that hiding it isn't always the best strategy."

"Ha, like you have any idea of what I'm going through," Casey said bitterly.

The retort cut through Olivia like a knife. She tried not to let the shock register on her face. Casey didn't notice, thank goodness. She was too wrapped up in her own tragedy right now; she didn't need Olivia's past problems to deal with too. She sighed and decided to give her more space. If Casey needed her, she'd know where to find her. She took her plate into the kitchen and ate alone.

Casey sat cross-legged, alone on the couch, all too aware of the absence of her friend, and knowing that something she had said caused the hasty retreat to the kitchen. She lost her appetite as quickly as she had gained it. She pushed the plate far away from her and swaddled herself in a blanket. A solitary tear fell from each eye and she hated herself for it; it meant her parents were still winning. She steeled herself against it but it was as though there was a chink in her armor. She tried to wrap herself tighter, trying to feel the sense of comfort that a baby feels when wrapped securely in a blanket. It wasn't working. She felt herself slipping deeper into self-pity and depression and a few more tears slipped down her cheeks. She tried in vain to stop them but it was as though her tear ducts had minds of their own. Her throat and chest ached from holding everything in and she knew she was close to reaching her breaking point. It wasn't going to be tonight. Her body started to tremble and she rocked herself back and forth, trying to stay quiet. She didn't want to bother Olivia anymore than she had already.

Olivia was heading back to her room to shower the grime of the day off when she noticed the all too familiar rocking movement. She made her way to the couch and tentatively sat down next to Casey.

Casey didn't even notice Olivia's presence until a hand rested on her shoulder. She shied away, forgetting how tightly she was wrapped in the blankets and proceeded to fall to her side on the couch. Olivia suppressed a smile, knowing it was completely inappropriate, and pulled Casey back up into a sitting position and rested her hand once more on the ADA's back. Once more, Casey shook it off.

"Please, don't, Olivia."

"Why not? Who do you have to be strong for?"

Casey just shrugged.

"Let me in," Olivia said, hesitantly placing her hand on Casey's back. "Let me in, Casey, and I'll help you get through this."

Instead of answering, she hung her head, trying to control her tears, tears of frustration rather than sorrow. She hated that she was pushing Olivia away when all she wanted to do was be a good friend and help. She didn't know why she was doing that. Everything seemed so mixed up in her head. She felt so confused, yet a part of her just wanted to figure it out on her own, like she had been doing her whole life. Olivia silently rubbed her back and stroked her hair with one hand and rested the other on her forearm. Finally, she looked up, her eyes glistening with tears. When she glanced at Olivia, she noticed the detective was crying as well. Casey narrowed her eyes with concern.

"Why are you crying?"

"Because what you're going through. And what you've been through."

"Don't cry for me, Olivia. I'm not worth it."

"Yes, you are." Olivia let that hang for a few seconds before continuing. "And I think the correct word is Argentina."

Casey stared at her blankly before it registered and a small smile crept across her face. "That was bad, detective. Really bad."

"It made you smile."

"Yeah."

"Do you want me to heat that up for you?" Olivia asked, indicating Casey's barely touched dinner. "Do you need anything?"

"No. Thank you, though. I'm fine."

"All right. I'm going to bed. If you need anything, come get me. Otherwise, I'll see you in the morning." Olivia squeezed Casey's hand before taking the plate to the kitchen and heading to her bedroom.

When she heard the bedroom door close, Casey heaved a huge sigh. She had successfully not fallen apart. She had controlled herself. It felt good to cry a little, yet nothing had changed. True, it didn't feel good to hold it in, either. The ache in her chest hadn't gone away – it was growing stronger.

_I'm a strong person. I can beat this. I refuse to cave._ She kept telling herself this, but she wasn't so sure she'd believe in herself quite as much the next day. Twenty-eight years of suppressed emotion was a lot to conquer.


	6. Ready or Not

Chapter title: Ready or Not  
Chapter summary: Casey attends her parents' funeral.  
Publish date: Dec. 14, 2005  
Disclaimer: Don't own the characters or the song. See the bottom for the song disclaimer.  
Note: For anyone confused about the "Argentina" reference: I'm a theatre geek – Casey says "Don't cry for me, Olivia" and Olivia's reply references "Don't cry for me Argentina" from the opera, _Evita_. ;)  
Note part 2: So sorry it's been so long since an update, I got caught up with Thanksgiving and finals.

The next morning Casey awoke with an odd feeling in the pit of her stomach. She curled up into a ball and after a few minutes she thought she was going to be sick. She waited for a few minutes, hoping the feeling would pass, but instead it grew more intense. She stumbled into Olivia's bathroom, trying not to wake her, and collapsed on the ground. She hunched over the toilet until, slowly, the nausea left her. She lay down on the floor, welcoming the coolness of the tiles against her cheek. She drifted off to sleep and was roused into consciousness when she felt a hand gently shaking her awake.

"Hey, you okay?" Olivia asked.

Casey sat up and smoothed back her hair. "I'm fine. I just woke up feeling sick."

"I'm sure it's just nerves," Olivia said, rubbing her arm. "Come on, I'll make breakfast."

"If its pancakes again, don't bother."

"Hey, I'll add the oil this time."

"Honestly, Olivia, I'm not hungry."

"Casey, I don't want to badger you, but you need to eat. You didn't eat anything yesterday and you need energy for today. Please? I have eggs and bacon; I can make that instead if you don't want pancakes."

Casey sighed, knowing she had no other choice. "Whatever you want."

"Eggs and bacon it is. To be on the safe side. I know I can't mess that up."

Casey followed Olivia into the kitchen and sat at the table while Olivia made breakfast and coffee.

"Olivia," Casey began, turning her coffee mug around in her hands. "I've thought a lot about it last night, and most of yesterday and the night before, and I was thinking – I mean, I don't know if you or the guys were even planning on it – but, well –"

"Come on, out with it," Olivia said, setting a plate down.

"I don't want you guys to sit with me at the funeral. I mean, I _do_ want you to, but I – I don't know, I just think it should just be me and whatever family that decides to come out of the woodworks. Is that weird? Or bad?"

"No, of course not. I understand, and I'm sure the guys will too."

"I guess I'm just hoping to find closure by doing it myself."

The rest of the morning was spent in silence. Casey took her time getting ready, hoping that her slow actions would somehow slow down time, and delay the funeral. But no matter how slow she moved, two o'clock came way too soon. She was in Olivia's bathroom, her black dress half unzipped, trying to tame her hair, which had decided it wanted to be frizzy. She pulled it back into a low ponytail then twisted it up in a clip as Olivia walked in.

"Hey, Elliot just called and he's almost here. You ready?"

Casey only nodded. Olivia stepped up and zipped up the rest of the dress, smoothing out non-existent wrinkles at the shoulders. She caught Casey's gaze in the mirror and saw her eyes shimmering with tears. She gave her arms an encouraging squeeze and left, allowing her a few brief moments to herself. And that was all it took. Casey exited the bathroom with the same, tired expression she had been wearing the past couple of days, and slipped into her coat. Together they made their way downstairs to where Elliot awaited them. The sky was overcast, the clouds threatening to break open.

The ride to the church was, for the most part, quiet. Elliot attempted some small talk but quickly stopped when he realized he was only receiving one word answers. He pulled up at the church and let the women get out before he went to park the car. Casey just stood on the sidewalk, staring at the doors of the church, half-expecting her parents to burst out of it, laughing at her gullibility before belittling her. She'd rather that happen than go through those doors for their funeral. She was so fixated on them she had forgotten Olivia was next to her.

"Come on," Olivia said, taking her by the elbow. "Let's go inside." She led the dazed woman up the stairs and into the sanctuary. Several people were already there, seated. Cragen, Munch, and Fin were sitting in the front row of the second section of pews, and Olivia and Casey stood in the walkway in front of them. They took off their coats and Cragen took them to the back where the coat rack was, and returned with Elliot in tow.

It was fifteen minutes until the funeral was to start. Casey swept her eyes around the sanctuary and noticed she barely knew anybody. They were her parents' friends – people she was never fortunate enough to meet – and some of them looked like old professors. Her mom's parents, banished from the family when Casey was three, were not there. Her other grandfather had died before she was born and his wife suffered from dementia. It looked like she would be sitting in the front pew alone. She didn't want to think about the funeral any more than she had to, and turned her attention back to her friends. As the seconds ticked by, her heart started to beat faster. She didn't want to cry but she felt an odd pressure rising up her stomach, chest, and throat. She knew if she made any sound she would lose it, so she kept quiet. When the organist started, she knew it was time for her to take her seat. At once, her heart began to pound her in chest. She felt like she had just woken up from a nightmare. There was that feeling of dread in the pit of her stomach, and coupled with her heart and the compression in her chest, she felt almost lightheaded.

"I can't do this," Casey whispered.

Elliot put his hand on her shoulder, right at her neck. "Yes you can. We're right here, and we'll be sitting just a few rows back."

"And if you want one of us to come sit with you, just turn around and ask," Olivia added. Casey looked at each of her friends, and forced herself to calm down. Elliot squeezed her shoulder and patted her back, then gently pushed her down the aisle.

She slid into the pew, alone, and stared at the two caskets sitting in the front of the church, both adorned with a beautiful flower arrangement. As the reverend took his place in the center of the pulpit, Casey realized she didn't have any tissues with her.

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to mourn the sudden passing of Jacob Andrew Novak, III and Kelly Merrick Novak but also to celebrate their lives. They were generous people, always thinking of others, even in the hardest of times. They were people to be modeled. They considered their greatest achievement was raising their daughter, Casey Elaine. Kelly and Jacob knew life was short, and that every day was a gift…"

Casey couldn't listen anymore. She couldn't stand the lies coming from the pastor's mouth. Yet she didn't want to miss a minute of the sermon. So she blinked back the tears that were pricking her eyes and listened as the pastor continued to praise her parents, of things she had no idea they had done. He then went into reading "the Lord is my Shepard" before launching into a sermon about the beauty of life. It was beautiful and perfect; she couldn't have asked for anything better. After he said the closing prayer, he announced the song. "And now a special song has been chosen to conclude today's service." He nodded at a guy in a booth in the back, and the opening chords of the song filled the church. Right away Casey knew it was the right song and no matter how hard she tried she couldn't keep the tears from springing into her eyes. She glanced back at her friends, sitting three rows behind her.

Olivia kissed her hand and offered it up to her, John flashed the "I love you" sign, Fin patted his heart, and Elliot gave her a tiny nod. Filled with her friends support, she turned back to the front as tears fell slowly, silently down her cheeks.

_I can only imagine  
What it will be like  
When I walk  
By your side  
I can only imagine  
What my eyes will see  
When your face  
Is before me  
I can only imagine  
Surrounded by Your glory, what will my heart feel  
Will I dance for you Jesus or in awe of you be still  
Will I stand in your presence or to my knees will I fall  
Will I sing hallelujah, will I be able to speak at all  
I can only imagine  
I can only imagine  
When that day comes  
And I find myself  
Standing in the Son  
I can only imagine  
When all I will do  
Is forever  
Forever worship You  
I can only imagine  
I can only imagine  
I can only imagine  
When all I will do  
Is forever, forever worship you_

When the song was over, the pallbearers came to take out the caskets. Somewhere, in the back of her mind, she knew she had to follow them. But she couldn't; she knew her legs would fail her. She dangerously close to losing it completely, and she didn't want to do it in front of all these strangers. It was as though any movement she made or any words she spoke would send her over the edge, and she was unwilling to do that. She wanted to experience her moments of weakness in private. So she continued to sit, staring dumbly as the caskets passed. Then the preacher gestured to her, indicating she follow. With much effort and control, she rose from the pew and took a few faltering steps into the aisle. She clutched the back of the pew, afraid she was going to get sick on the poor man sitting behind her, and squeezed her eyes shut.

Olivia knew her presence would give Casey the strength to keep going, so she crawled over Elliot and walked down to her friend. She snaked her arm around Casey's and held her hand, and together they walked up the aisle after the pallbearers. Once in the lobby area, they were directed to the reception room. Olivia started to disentangle her arm when Casey's grip on her hand became tighter.

"Please stand with me," Casey whispered. When Olivia nodded, she let go of her hand.

People started to fill the small room and most of them made a beeline for Casey. She didn't know any of them and she didn't want to hear "I'm sorry for your loss" repeatedly from strangers.

"Casey," one little old lady began, taking Casey's hands in her own. "You're parents were so proud of you. They couldn't stop talking about you whenever we were together."

Shocked, Casey asked the question before she could stop herself. "Are you sure they were talking about me?"

"You're the lawyer, correct?" At Casey's nod, she continued. "Well, then, yes, they were talking about you. They were so proud of how far you had come and where you are now. They couldn't have been happier."

"You're sure you're talking about _my_ parents?"

"Yes, dear, of course. Didn't you know these things?" the lady asked, clearly confused.

"No, my parents and I didn't have the best communication."

"Oh. Well, you were the twinkle in their eyes." And with that, the lady moved on to check out the food trays. Casey stared after her, trying to process the information. Halfway through the line, another lady had provided Casey with more or less the same information: the Novaks were incredibly proud of their daughter. At this point, she couldn't take it anymore. She wanted to get through the burial and go home. She folded her arms in front of her, hoping to appear inapproachable. It seemed to work. Finally the preacher came to get her and she followed him to the front of the church, where the limousine was waiting.

At the burial site, the only other people besides Casey and the preacher were the detectives and three couples, presumably her parent's closest friends. She felt a tiny pang in her heart, that she didn't know anything about her parent's lives. She tried to pay attention to what the preacher was saying but she couldn't take her eyes off the two gaping holes in the ground and the weathered headstone that belonged to her brother. This was it. Her family. Every part of her, everything that made her who she turned out to be, was about to be buried underground forever. Casey couldn't bear to think of her life without them. For all the pain they caused her, she still loved them. She shoved her hands in her coat pockets, clenching her fists and digging her nails into her palms.

The other couples left as the caskets were lowered into the ground. Now, she was really struggling to keep her emotions in check. She didn't want to fall apart in front of the guys. Olivia was okay – she had already been witness to her weakest moments. But the guys – Casey didn't want them to see her differently, to shatter what little vision of competency they saw in her. She turned away and shielded her eyes with one hand and taking deep breaths. Wordlessly Olivia put her hand on Casey's back and led her back to the limo and climbed in with her.

Once the door closed, it became even more difficult. Casey wanted to wait until she was safely inside Olivia's apartment, a blanket over her head and hours to herself to cry. The twenty minute ride was not enough, and she'd have to face the guys when she got out of the limo, not to mention the ride home with Elliot. It was her pride, her dignity, her stubbornness, that was keeping her so stoic. It wasn't precisely what she wanted, but it was what she had been doing for so long it was almost like she couldn't help it. She didn't know how to deal with it any other way.

As the car started, Casey grabbed the door grip with one hand and pounded the leather seat with the other. She squeezed her eyes shut and even with all the effort a small sob still managed to escape. She felt Olivia's hand cover her own and that gave her the strength to sit up and compose herself. She kept her eyes forward the entire ride to the church. On the ride to Olivia's apartment, she sat hunched in the back and stared out the window, watching stray raindrops run down the glass. The ride was silent, but she could see Elliot and Olivia looking back at her from the corner of her eye, studying her. She wrapped her arms tightly around herself in a vain attempt to disappear. She was sick of people treating her as though she was fragile. In her state of mind, it seemed so demeaning. She was tormented with conflicting emotions and she didn't know which ones to give in to. Right now, she just wanted to disappear, to get away from it all; to not be Casey Novak anymore, or at least for a little while.

She was so lost in thought that she didn't realize they were home, and nearly fell out of the car when Elliot opened the door for her. Always the gentleman, he walked the women up to the apartment. Olivia invited him in and he agreed, promising only to stay for a few minutes.

After she changed back into her pajamas, Casey sat patiently on the couch, waiting for Elliot to leave. She realized that although her chest felt like it was going to explode, she had seemingly lost the ability to cry. She was growing increasingly frustrated with herself and everything in general. Elliot had barely sat down when she stomped into the bathroom and locked the door.

"Well, perhaps I should just head out," she heard him mutter to Olivia.

"Okay. I'll walk you out." They walked downstairs in silence. "I wish I could do something for her. I can see how much this is hurting her. I don't understand why she feels she needs to be so strong," Olivia sighed, leaning against the wall of the lobby.

"It's her way of dealing with it. Don't push her; give her some time to herself. She'll come to you when she's ready."

"I know. I wish she knew we are all there for her."

"Trust me, Liv, she knows." Elliot gave her a pat on the shoulder. "I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Most likely. Have a good night, Elliot." She watched him until he had driven off, and then made her way upstairs.

Meanwhile, up in the bathroom, Casey studied at her reflection, hardly believing the face staring back at her was her own. She didn't even recognize herself. There were black bags under her eyes, giving the allusion she had been in a fight. Her skin looked sunken in, her green eyes now dull and lifeless. She wanted to cry. More than anything, she wanted to collapse to the floor and mourn her parents' death. But for some reason she couldn't identify, she couldn't even force the tears. Just a few hours earlier she could barely hold them back, and now she couldn't make them come.

Suddenly, she was going through Olivia's drawers, searching for something and not knowing what it was until she came across a pair of nail scissors. She stared at the tiny scissors, her hands trembling. In an instant she was taken back to high school and she vividly remembered cutting herself and the calming effect the sight of blood had on her. Old habits die hard, and she needed the release she knew she'd feel. So she slid the scissors across her forearm and watched as the blood bubbled to the surface.

She felt nothing except a stinging pain. She rolled down her sleeve, the ¾-sleeve barely covering the cut. She dropped the scissors in the sink and ran her hands through her hair, then kicked the lower cabinets out of frustration.

"Why do I always feel so fucking ridiculous no matter what I do? God, I can't even mourn correctly!" She whispered to the broken woman staring back at her. "I look half-dead. I feel half-dead. Maybe I should fix that." She went into Olivia's kitchen, grabbed a bottle of vodka, and headed for the roof.

When Olivia got back to her apartment, the door was open. She knew for a fact she had closed it when she left. She paused at the door, listening carefully. "Casey?" she called. When she didn't receive an answer, she continued to call out to her friend. She went into the bathroom she saw the nail scissors in the sink, blood on the tips and scattered drops on the counter. A quick search of the apartment proved Casey had left. The window leading to the fire escape was still locked shut and Casey would have passed Olivia and Elliot if she had gone out the front. That left one more option: the roof. Olivia shrugged on her coat and ran up the stairs.

The song at the funeral is "I Can Only Imagine" by Mercy Me.


	7. Catharsis

Chapter title: Catharsis  
Chapter summary: Casey finally accepts the reality of her parents' deaths.  
Publish date: February 1, 2006  
Note: So sorry for the delay! With the holidays and stage managing a show, I had close to no time to work on this chapter. And I had a bit of writers block. I never planned on waiting nearly two months! Thanks for your patience. And because it's my birthday and I'm feeling generous, I give you the final chapter in this series.

Night was falling quickly, and with it the chill of evening. Casey sat on the roof ledge, her legs dangling in the air ten stories up. Her capri pajama pants and ¾-sleeve t-shirt did absolutely nothing to protect her from the cold. Her ass and thighs were growing numb from the cold stone of the ledge. Yet, she sat there, shivering and cold to the bone, and refused to go inside. She felt so miserable. It was as though she was drowning, and she didn't know which way was up. No matter what she did, she couldn't break the surface. She just didn't know what to do anymore.

The cut on her arm wasn't very deep, but every time she released pressure, blood would bubble to the surface. After several minutes she just gave up, knowing it would eventually stop. She kept staring at the cut, almost willing it to work the same magic it held when she was a teenager. When nothing happened, she took a swig of the vodka then set it next down next to her, her right hand resting on the bottle.

She really hadn't ever planned on jumping. Her inability to feel anything but anger and bitterness was starting to get to her. She just felt so dead, so empty, that perhaps sitting on the edge of the building would bring her back to herself. So far, it wasn't working. She surveyed the city and wondered how people who had been hurt as badly as herself were able to bounce back, to put it behind them, to move on with their lives. Her past, what she had been through, was so deep rooted in her soul she didn't think she'd ever be able to let it go completely. She drank again from the bottle, trying to chase away these thoughts, and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. She leaned forward, partially on a dare to herself, and observed the world below her – a world that didn't know she existed, much less care about the emotional torture she was experiencing. She stayed like that for a minute or two until vertigo set in. She sat back up and closed her eyes, waiting for her mind to stop spinning. She heard the door to the roof slam closed and Olivia calling out for her.

"Casey?"

Without turning to face the detective, Casey gave a half-hearted wave with her free hand. She heard the crunch of gravel as Olivia approached and she took another drink. Olivia sat beside her on the ledge, her feet firmly planted on the roof side. She leaned over and gently removed the alcohol from Casey's grip.

"Hey!" she exclaimed, her eyes blazing. She reached for the bottle as it was taken away but she was too cold and distraught to make a real effort. "Hey!" she protested weakly as Olivia poured the contents onto the rooftop.

Olivia set the bottle by her feet, and then turned to study Casey, who shifted uncomfortably under the detective's gaze. Olivia tentatively took Casey's arm to inspect the cut, but Casey yanked her arm back. "Don't," she whispered.

"Don't what?"

"Just…don't. I'm fine."

"You know, you've been saying that so much the past few days, it barely sounds like a word anymore."

"What do you want me to tell you, Olivia? That I'm not fine? Okay, then. I'm not fine. I'm the furthest thing from fine. Happy?" She said, angry tears glistening in her eyes. She rolled up her sleeves and portrayed her fresh cut along with the fine lines of healed cuts and faded scars. "You want to fix me? Go ahead. Fix me."

They stared at each other for several seconds before Casey yanked her sleeves back down. In her mind, Olivia's silence equaled apathy. She turned her head away and fought back tears.

Olivia was quiet for a few moments. "I wasn't going to ask you why."

Slowly, Casey turned and gave her the tiniest smile of gratitude. She swung her legs over to the other side of the ledge. Once her feet were on an actual surface instead of hanging in the air, Olivia let out the breath she didn't realize she was holding.

"Why are you up here?"

Casey looked at Olivia then back down at her feet. "I don't know." She shrugged and shook her head. "I don't know."

"Talk to me, Casey."

"Why, what's the point? Talking isn't going to change anything. I can talk all you want but when I'm done my parents will still be dead and I will have still been abused." She crossed her arms in front of her in an effort to warm herself up and walked away from the ledge. She didn't want this confrontation, not now. But Olivia ignored these cues and approached Casey, gently taking her elbow and turning her around to face her.

"You're right. But holding it in won't change anything either. Talking is better than holding it all inside of you. This poison, it's potent, and it will eat you up if you don't spit it out."

The hostility switch flipped on. "Whatever." She tried to turn away but Olivia pulled her back.

"I can see how much this is destroying you."

"This isn't destroying me. _They_ destroyed me!" Casey yanked her arm out of Olivia's grip and turned away once again. She dug her nails into her arms to keep herself in control and vainly hoped Olivia would just go away. Of course, that didn't happen.

"Why are you trying so hard to be so strong?"

All of a sudden, something inside of her just snapped. Anger poured out of her. She couldn't believe what she was saying. She wasn't even thinking – the words just flew out of her mouth and she couldn't control what she said. She started to pace around in a tiny circle.

"My whole life I've been on the receiving end of hate and anger and million other things. My parents didn't love me for who I was. And no matter how hard I tried, I could be who they wanted me to be. They wanted me to be Jake, and that was impossible. They loved him more in his six years of life than they loved me all twenty-eight years of mine!"

"Casey, don't be –" Olivia began before Casey cut her off.

"Don't tell me I'm being irrational! I'm not being _fucking_ irrational!" she yelled, throwing up her hands and taking a somewhat menacing step toward the detective. "My whole fucking life I tried to be the best at everything and that was never good enough. I tried so hard to please them and what was the point? It never worked. Everything I did they rejected. Nothing I did could make them love me like they loved Jake. Just because I wasn't a fucking boy. They blamed me for his death – for anything and everything that went wrong. I know they wished I was the one who died. And sometimes I wish it was me too. All I ever wanted was their acceptance and I thought if I could just do what they wanted, what they expected of me, then they'd stop hurting me. But they were never proud of me, they never loved me. I was just something they kept around because they felt obligated. They never took the time to know me. They just shoved me in a closet or told me I was too fat to be loved by anyone. They kept telling me I was worthless, and after awhile, I believed them. You can only break down someone's self-esteem so low before they start to destroy themselves. They had shown so much goodness to complete strangers. Why couldn't they have shown just a little bit to me? I never understood what it was, what I did, that made them hate me so passionately. God, I wish it was me. I wish I had died in that accident. Then they'd get their fucking wish and be rid of me for good. They wouldn't be in such agonizing grief. I hate them. I fucking hate them!" she lunged at Olivia and started pounding at her shoulders. Olivia let her; Casey wasn't hitting hard enough to hurt. After several punches, Olivia gently grabbed Casey's fists, but Casey screamed and flung her hands away as if she were burned.

"Casey…"

"Don't touch me!" Casey shied away from Olivia. Right now she was in such a rage that she needed to throw something, anything. She eyed the empty vodka bottle and headed towards it. She grabbed it by the neck, lifted it over her head, and brought it down as hard as she could. She slammed it against the ground, shards of glass flying up and cutting her face. She kept going until the only intact piece was the neck in her hand, which she threw against the side of the ledge. When it shattered, all the anger went out of her and she came back down to reality. Her body was finally starting to object to the cold and she began to shiver uncontrollably. She wrapped her arms around her body and stared out at the city lights, which soon became blurry from her tears.

Olivia stepped up and put her coat around Casey's shoulders, rubbing her shoulders to help warm her up. "Let's get you inside."

Casey only nodded. She was afraid if she spoke, her body would give out on her, that she would fall to the floor and not have the strength to get up. She felt out of control of her body, and she could barely walk, as it were. She allowed herself to be led back down to Olivia's apartment and collapsed on the couch, bringing her knees to her chest and trying to take up as little room as possible. Olivia draped a blanket around her shoulders and then left her for a few minutes. She came back with a box of Kleenex and some stuff to clean the cut and knelt down in front of her friend. She took Casey's arm and began to clean the cut. She worked silently and with a motherly gentleness. Tears burned in Casey's eyes as she tried to remember a single time her own mother doctored her cuts and bruises. An instance like that was so rare she was sure it was actually nonexistent. She couldn't understand why this was so hard on her, why she had convinced herself to be so strong.

"Casey." Olivia's voice brought her back to reality. She avoided the detective's gaze – the powerful, penetrating concern Olivia held in her eyes. Casey looked down at her hands and played with the fringe of the blanket. A hand touched her chin and she lifted her eyes to meet Olivia's. That was all it took, that one glance. And there went her armor, the shield she had used her whole life – irreparable. Her eyes filled with tears and she looked away. Olivia got off the floor sat next to her and tried to get Casey to confide in her, to face her demons instead of hide from them.

Finally, Casey turned back to Olivia, her eyes clouded with unshed tears. "Do you know what it's like to grow up hating yourself? To know that even others can't stand to look at you?" she asked, her voice barely audible.

Tears sprang to Olivia's eyes – her own wounds were still fresh – but pushed them back. "Yeah. Yeah, I do." She could see the façade start to crumble. She brushed Casey's hair out of her eyes.

"I hate myself. I just wish I could get away from me."

"Oh, Casey," Olivia said, unable to keep the pity out of her voice. She reached for the younger woman's hand and squeezed. "It's okay to cry, you know."

Casey stared at Olivia and slowly, she allowed herself to feel the pain she had kept bottled up over the past few days. Her shoulders started to shake and she covered her mouth with one hand in an attempt to stifle her sobs. Soon her whole body was practically convulsing. Olivia gently pulled Casey's hand away – a gesture to let her know she didn't have to hold it in any longer – and rubbed her back. After a few deep, shuddering breaths, she finally felt safe enough to let it all out. Olivia wrapped her arms around Casey, who leaned in, appreciating the solidity and strength the detective possessed.

Hot tears streamed down her cheeks. She couldn't believe her parents were gone forever. That was what was hardest to accept. Over the years she had grown so used to their criticism that instead of feeling relieved, she felt herself missing it. And with this new information she learned today – her parents _were_ proud of her – the ache in her heart seemed even more unmanageable. Her parents were just now starting to see her as an adult, someone to brag about, and most importantly, their daughter. But now they are dead, and just like that, Casey's hopes of ever having a "normal" relationship with her parents was gone. That's what she mourned the most. She had never been on good terms with her parents, even before Jake was born, and now she'd never know if they loved her, or how much they loved her, if they were proud of her, or if they blamed her for her brother's death. All these uncertainties only brought forth another wave of tears. Her stomach was starting to hurt from crying but she couldn't seem to stop. She hugged her legs to her chest and rested her head on her knees, her sobs muffled in the cocoon she created. Olivia's arms were now around her folded body, holding her tightly, as if protecting her.

After several minutes, Casey's sobs had subsided, but the tears were still falling. She wiped her eyes and nose as best she could with the Kleenex. "You know, I kind of thought they'd live forever. I really can't believe they're gone," she whispered. She took a deep breath, trying to keep her composure. "They're gone. They're dead. I can say it a million times and the pain will never go away. I keep thinking it will get easier to say, easier to accept, but it doesn't."

Olivia rested one hand on Casey's arm and rubbed her back with the other. "Losing someone you love – regardless of how they treated you – is never easy. It's so hard at first, I know, but it will get better. It does get better. The hurt and pain subside a little each day, but it never goes away completely. I always used to wonder if my mom loved me for reasons very similar to yours. But I think because I miss her and I still get sad when I think about her, I know that she did love me, otherwise I wouldn't feel this way. Now, I'm not trying to tell you how to think or feel, but I think that deep down you feel the same way."

Casey gave an almost imperceptible nod. She stared off into space until her shoulders started to shake again. She covered Olivia's hand with her own and rested her head on the detective's shoulder.

When the wave of tears was over, Casey was exhausted. The day had been long and the rush of emotions had started to take a toll on her body. She accepted Olivia's offer of Tylenol PM.

"Sleep in my bed tonight. I'll take the couch. It'll be more comfortable," Olivia said, offering her guest the medicine and a glass of water.

"I can't kick you out of your bed," Casey protested weakly.

"You aren't kicking me out. I'm offering."

Casey relented and started to retreat into the bedroom. At the door, she paused, and turned back to Olivia. "Olivia? I – I… I would have jumped tonight, if you and Elliot hadn't been so wonderful the past few days. Thank you."

Olivia gave her an understanding smile and nod, and they held each others' gaze for a few seconds.

"Good night. And thank you again." Before Olivia could respond, Casey disappeared into the bedroom. The road ahead was going to be long and difficult, but she knew it would be easier with her friends' support.

_Thank you, loyal readers. This story, at the second chapter, ended up being nothing like I planned on writing, but I'm glad, because I'm pretty happy with this one. As of now, this is the last chapter because I can't think of anything to follow it._


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